A Wicked Beginning
by Sedaline
Summary: Albel's life. Lots of drama! ...And violence. Probably not for the faint of heart/stomach.
1. Such is Fate

Gentle eyes opened, the brown irises dotted with a small pupil that slowly began to focus and adjust to the morning. Soft brown hair, with the tips slowly dissolving to a blonde color, laid upon the boy's face. He was only just thirteen, having turned over a new year last week. The morning was silent, a soft drizzling rainfall outside of the tiny stone and mortar home. A soft rustle was off to the side, a few feet over being the father's bed as the occupant began to stir. Sighing, the boy rolled over as he remembered what was to happen today. A ceremony, called Ascension of the Flame, was held for boys that had great potential, enough to join those of the elite Dragon Brigade. The Dragon Brigade was one of three military branches for the Airyglyphian Kingdom, all feared and respected to great lengths.

Slowly sitting up, young Albel Nox rubbed his face before he got out of bed and dressed himself in a simple white tunic and a pair of slacks. He didn't need to wear anything fancier than that, especially when there was a chance that he could die. Yes... that was the problem of this renowned ceremony. Many people have died attempting this, because they could not succeed. Albel's father Glou, was the current captain of the Dragon Brigade, another military branch, so it was only expected that the offspring of Glou was bound for great things and immense power. As such, he had been chosen to strive for the Dragon Brigade. After washing his face, Albel was sitting at the table, eating some salted pork with his father. The man had dark brown eyes and short brown hair, with a little bit in the front longer than the rest. He was lean and muscular, silent in his own ways. Today was not a day for speaking. Even now at breakfast, a single utterance of a word may break the focus on the situation. Glou was not pleased about this, as Albel was all he had left. The mother had died shortly after childbirth, and Glou's position as captain made him feared above all. So he was simply alone, living with his son who might not have a future after today.

Albel and Glou were soon standing at the front doors of the castle, Glou's large hand resting gently upon his son's shoulder in a reassuring manner. His son knew very well the dangers, and they had trained for so long to prepare him for this. Now all it was down to, was to have Albel commune with the dragons. There was no way to train for that, because it was a gift only a select few people had.

Being brought into the Dragon's Chamber, where the military dragons resided, the officials such as the king, Vox as the commander of the Dragon Brigade, and several other men were watching. No one else but the highest of officials were allowed. Albel was only glad that his father was standing off to the side with his arms crossed. Hope was in his eyes, but his expression was just as grim as everyone else's. The Airyglyphian castle had been built right into the side of the mountain, where the entire Airyglyph city resided. It was almost constantly snowing, but it did rain during the warmer seasons to help the scarce farming boom. With the castle into the mountain, men had simply dug an enormous cave into the rock and the dragons were quite content with that. There were only a few torches in the walls, but the entire cave still seemed rather dark and eerie, a dampness all around accompanied by a rank and musty smell from the mildew. But that was aside from the rank stench of the creatures that resided here, from the droppings and the overall hygiene of the creatures themselves. Sure, the cave was constantly cleaned, but the smell would never go away. The cave shook gently as a large dragon was brought forth. This one was different than most dragons, as it didn't appear to have scales, but it had skin like a shark. It was smooth and a dull green color, the amber eyes immediately locking upon the boy. As this dragon was the easiest-going of all of the dragons, this one was well-versed in the procedures of the ceremony. The room was dead silent except the gentle crackle of the flames from the torches, boy and dragon staring each other down. Albel's brown eyes remained innocent, trying to reach his mind out for the creature, attempting to feel anything, anything at all. He could tell the dragon was trying the same, eyes locked without even a single blink. Several minutes passed by until a sudden throbbing pain hit Albel in his head. He could tell this wasn't working, the instant he felt the headache. But as the dragon continued pushing, Albel felt like his mind and skull were going to shatter. The pain being so intense, he finally let out a yelp and staggered back, holding his head. At the instant he backed down, the dragon threw back its head, the throat enlarging to the size as if the beast had just swallowed a whole pig.

Albel gasped at this, seeing a heavy plume of smoke being emitted from the dragon's mouth, and he could do nothing but stand perfectly still, trembling in fear as the dragon's head lowered. But all was a blur as Glou charged forward and he grabbed Albel, shielding the boy with his back. He couldn't lose Albel… not the only thing left in Glou's life since the passing of his wife to their only son. The boy gasped as he stared up at his father for the briefest moment, horror etching itself onto his features. The dragon then roared, fire passing over them the instant Glou's arms were around Albel.

To the bystanders who were horrified at the sudden turn of events, they listened to both screams, a horrible sound of both terror and agony. The room felt like an oven with the large plume of fire that only lasted for a few seconds, and once it died away, the dragon merely trudged on back to the rest of the lizards. Glou fell to his knees, his eyes still open wide in pain. He hadn't been scared, though. Not when he knew that this was the right thing to do. Albel stood there, his left arm severely burned since he too had returned the hug, his right hand clutching at Glou's tunic for safety. And as such, only the right arm was severely damaged, while his left leg was burnt as well. The arm hung limply to his side as he stared at his father, who then simply collapsed to the floor, his whole back burned beyond anything imaginable, almost like parchment thrown into a fire. Glou's eyes turned to Albel then, watching as the boy fell to his knees beside his father, eyes wide and filled with tears. His right hand lifted, shaking tremendously as he touched his father's face. The action only caused the man to give a weak and happy chuckle, all too happy to see his son had survived. Then, his eyes closed and a soft and gentle sigh of death comforting him left Glou. Albel gently spoke out 'father', questioning him as his hand moved to the man's shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. His teeth gritted in an effort to keep himself from crying, but large tears soon began to run down his face. Woltar, an advisor to the king and in charge of the final military branch, rushed forward and grabbed the boy, trying to pull him away. In the military, it was alright to see the death of another man, but seeing less of a passed loved one meant less mourning, in their opinion. Albel let out a shriek of both terror and agony, struggling violently to try and get away from the man, but it was to no avail as Woltar was too strong and Albel was pulled away from the body. Albel continued sobbing and shrieking, yelling out words that didn't even fit into any language. He even called out for his father, clawing at Woltar with his good hand to try and escape, but nothing happened. Woltar soon threw Albel into a guest bedroom, and the door slammed before the infamous 'click' signaled that the man had locked him inside. As Woltar walked away, he could hear the horrible sobbing from the other side of the door, the helpless pounding of a weakened fist on the heavy door. The pounding soon stopped, but all that was left was still more crying. Albel was a failure.


	2. A Tisket, A Tasket

It had been nearly a half hour since Albel had been imprisoned, tear ducts at a lack of the salty droplets by now. Sitting there against the door, the boy sniffled and rubbed his nose, remembering the face on his father... the expression when his body first registered the heat and began to born into cinders within moments. Albel could even remember the scream his father let out, the pain too intense for him to remain silent about this. It was all Albel's fault... he had been the one to kill his father. The dragon was simply following orders, as it had to kill the failure that could never succeed. But Albel failed… having lead his father to believe that he was good for someone, causing Glou to go and sacrifice his life for that love between them. But it was all Albel's fault. He would never be able to avenge his father, especially if he couldn't even save himself. The dark brown eyes turned on his arm, burnt terribly all the way to his shoulder. Though, his arm did look a little more decent the farther it went up, but he knew for sure that his arm was useless and just a dead weight. 

Even his face was burnt a little, but not too badly. Slightly stinging from the past heat, the cheek was slightly swollen. Standing up, Albel looked to his good hand, to the limp one at his side before he scowled and whimpered, the terrible pain starting to come back now that any nerves that had survived began to awaken from the shock. Letting out a dry sob, he simply stood there like some little fool until a maid finally came into the room and gasped when she saw the ravaged boy. It had been the talk of the castle, Glou's horrible death this morning, and of Woltar trying to just keep Albel out of the room by keeping him someplace else. No one was to interfere, and the maid quickly shut the door again to not get in trouble when Albel looked to her, silently begging for comfort. At the slam of the door, Albel gritted his teeth, his right hand clenching into a fist. Several minutes later, Woltar stepped back in again, the maid lurking behind him with a frightened look upon her face. Albel sneered, already angry at her for having abandoned him the first time, and now looking at him like some monster. Woltar merely stepped forward and rested a hand on Albel's shoulder, but the hand was pushed away. 

"You need to go to the doctor." Woltar stated softly, and Albel wanted to go as well, but his feet wouldn't move. Reaching down, Woltar took Albel's hand and carefully lead him to the doctor's room, only saying 'Nox', and the doctor instantly knew who the boy was. Glou's son. The one that was supposed to have died.

It wasn't long before Albel was tied down, a rag in his mouth. Woltar nor the doctor had told him of what was to happen, but he was more terrified now. Both ankles were tied down with heavy ropes, including his good wrist and elbow. As for his injured arm, he simply had a rope around his neck, to keep him from jerking around during the procedure. A rag was tied around his mouth, keeping him from asking what was going on as the doctor grabbed a large butcher knife. The brown eyes widened, and Albel let out a whimper. Woltar watched with shadowed eyes, saying nothing at all. The boy hated how no one was doing anything. Any other child he knew was practically drowned in affection and comfort when a loved one died, or when they got the smallest of cuts. Here Albel was, tied down with some rusted-knife-wielding doctor. "Your arm is too damaged to be of any use. You will be better off without it." Was all the man said before he put the knife to Albel's skin. He let out a small whimper, trying to pull away, but the doctor grabbed the injured arm tightly and held him down while continuing. Albel let out a shriek when he could feel pain, and see blood running from the first cut. The doctor said nothing, but continued to cut into the soft flesh. The pain intensified with the deeper cut, blood staining the sheets as Albel screamed out even more. Though the gag was still in place, he tried biting down onto it to endure as well. It didn't work too well. The rusted and hardly sharpened blade continued cutting through the flesh and tendons and muscles, the doctor ignoring the splash of crimson when he hit a larger vein. Tendons snapped like taught twine, and muscle cut like meat. The blood made it hard to see what he was cutting through, but until the doctor got to the bone, he used the same method. At the bone, the doctor used the knife with a sawine motion before he gave up, and turned to using an actual saw to tear through it all. After the half hour of this mind-shattering horror, the doctor simply pulled the detached limb away, ignoring Albel as he was sobbing helplessly, Woltar having left already due to a weak stomach. Albel refused to look. He didn't want to see the damage, and he certainly didn't want to see the blood. Holding the arm in a sheet to hide it from the view of others, the doctor left the room to go into the dragon's den, and simply threw the arm to the creatures to devour before he returned to a still crying Albel, but who was now very dizzy from the loss of blood. And finally, he stopped crying, his eyes rolling as he looked around the room from the bed next to him, to each and every block on the wall, to the torches even. Everything was swirling, leaving motion paths and causing even more dizziness.

With this silence, the doctor busied himself with wrapping up the wounds, dressing them all and putting lotions upon the burns before he simply left Albel there to rest as the bandages became soaked in blood as well, but slowly stopping to attempt to heal. Woltar was back in, his slate grey eyes watching the helpless boy for a few moments before he left again, a heavy guilt over his heart. He was only glad that the Dragon Brigade captain, Vox, wasn't the one to be in charge of caring for Albel. …Well, Woltar wasn't in charge of him either, but he simply decided on watching over him as someone had to. If Vox was the only one to, he would've left Albel to die. He had even seen the man try and hold back Glou from the heroic action. Walking forward, he set a goblet of cider beside the boy to drink when he awoke.

After nearly a full twenty-fours hours of sleep, Albel's eyes opened and he found that the ropes had finally been untied. Though, there were still marks on his flesh where the rope had cut in, leaving red marks and slivers from Albel's fighting against the agony. Sitting up slowly, he finally realized just how light his arm felt now, compared to his right arm. Looking at the stump that went from his shoulder to just above his elbow, he could do nothing but stare as all senses intensified with the horror winding it's way deep into his body. Looking away quickly, his heart pounding for a few moments, inhaling the rank stench of the blood-drenched sheets. The smell of iron was heavy, coming off of the blackened sheets before Albel stood up quickly. The movement made his head spin, his hand going up to hold it, only to feel the bandages around his face as well. Looking around desperately for anyone, he suddenly felt very alone, just as before. No one was here, helping him get through this. No one was around, tell him everything was going to be alright. Nothing at all, except fright and the memories of what had happened, all leading to this moment of misery like everything else. Running out of the doctor's office, Albel didn't care where he was heading, as long as he was on the move. Down he went, deep into the castle, down hallways and past people and avoiding them if they tried to grab him to get him to calm down. Finally, Albel found himself dashing into the dungeons, past the people chained to the walls, people trapped in cages... everyone until he could go no further. As he put his hand up to feel the wall that blocked off further movements, he looked at it desperately, begging for some door to open to let him continue, but there was nothing. Turning around, he sat down and hugged his knees to his chest with one hand, staring down to the ground.

One of the prisoners, one of the last that Albel had passed, hissed out to catch the child's attention. "Hey.. Kid." He whispered out, smirking.


	3. A First for Everything

"Hey… Kid!" The man hissed again, eyes narrowing a little since his first call-to-attention was ignored. Albel sniffled a little, eyes lifting from being mashed into his knees to try and suppress the endless crying. He made a small questioning noise, and the man grinned when he was finally being listened to. "I gotta hand it to your dad… when he died, the warden was so upset that he gave us one wish. Of course it wasn't freedom, but eventually we agreed on apples. We all got three apples instead of the usual hard bread and water. That was a good day." He snickered, eyes narrowing. Albel stared, unconsciously tightening his hand into a fist. "But look at you, Kid. You wouldn't even survive a day out in the wilderness, if you stay like that." He laughed a little, watching as Albel slowly rose to his feet. "And.. what's wrong with me?" Albel growled softly, a sort of wall starting to slowly build so he wouldn't dare pity anyone in the dungeons if this man turned and tried to kiss Albel's ass for freedom. "Well, look at you. You're missing an arm, you're all half-way bandaged up, and you probably can't fight for your life against even… even... a scumbag with a wooden dagger! You're a pretty crappy kid, letting your dad die like that." The man grinned, eyes narrowing.

"I bet he's lookin' up at you from Hell now... wondering why you were so damned useless. Oh, trust me. I heard the whole thing from the warden. You were just cryin' like a baby, and before your daddy had to go and save you, you damn near pissed your pants! What's a lizard to you, eh? All boys should love lizards, and you were terrified of it like some little girl." The man began to laugh, the chains rattling as he stood there. One of the more terrible forms of torture was simply to make a person stand for days upon days, so this man had his ankles shackled to the floor, and wrists held up towards the ceiling by more chains. There was even a collar around his neck, keeping the man to the wall several feet away in case the other chains failed. The man continued talking, talking on and on about how things had gone, how terrible Albel was for being useless and a weak child, and now so with the lack of a left arm. The man continued talking, not even watching as Albel tensed up, head hanging low with shadowed eyes. _Why won't he stop talking? Make him stop! Make him stop!_ He howled out in his mind, and before he could get another thought through, Albel found his hand wrapped around the chain to the collar, pulling back as hard as he could.

The man instantly stopped talking, gasping for air and crying out as his wrists were bleeding. Those chains were too short, and Albel pulling the man against the cuffs forced the old iron shackles to cut in. Albel's jaws gritted together, enough that he almost felt like his teeth were going to crack. The man's face paled, and he began fighting against the collar, but Albel only pulled harder, his knuckles snow white. He then let go for a second just to regain his grip, and before the man could say anything further, Albel grabbed higher up on the chain and jerked back even harder, even using his own weight to become even more fatal. Finally, the man stopped moving, but to make sure the man was dead, Albel held onto the chain for even another three minutes after the man had ceased movement. His breath was heavy, face pale and covered in a little bit of sweat. Finally, when he realized that the man was dead, his fingers opened on an impulse, and Albel staggered back against the wall, staring at the limp body.

_I killed a man… I killed someone._ Whispered over and over in his mind, and he looked to his hands. But he didn't see any blood. His father, having killed men, mentioned his hands stained with blood. Albel had never seen any blood then whenever he looked over the rough and calloused, yet gentle hands. And even now, Albel saw no blood. In fact, he smiled. The man had stopped talking. Albel actually felt better now, having silenced one of two voices that nagged him. An external voice was gone… but now all that was left was an inner voice. But Albel tried to ignore that as best he could for now, as he relished in the delight of having silenced the man so easily. At first he was terrified, but he saw no blood. There was no blood on his hands, and there was no mess. In fact, he left the dungeons with a bit of a skip in his step, all too excited, and yet terrified at the same time. Excited at the thrill of being caught and scared all the same. He didn't want to get caught having killed a man, but there was a rush in that danger.

Was this why there was so much crime? Was it so fun to risk the danger? The boy could understand, but once he finally returned to the doctor's room since there was nowhere else for him, he calmed down, now that the moment had passed. The man's words returned, along with his own to pester him. It stabbed at his heart a thousand times over and more, but for once, there were no tears. Albel finally stopped that, gritting his teeth and glaring off at a crack in the wall, a similar wall being made up around his inner self. He wouldn't cry anymore. The more he cried, the more people would talk to him like the corpse. He would stop that. He would stop being weak. Well, he would try, of course. There was no guarantee it would happen right away, and there was bound to be times when he would cry a little now and then, but otherwise, he vowed to stop this nonsense once and for all. Everything that had once been his world had turned their back upon him, and now he was just some… some _worm_. That's right. A worm. Maggot. Fool. Scum. Useless. Weak. Inept. Coward. His eyes narrowed, and he stood up then, but just as he was about to storm out the door, a man opened the door. He had red hair and green eyes, wearing Aquarian armor. He looked down to the boy curiously, then looked up and saw the doctor was nowhere. A little girl, possibly around Albel's age, peeked at Albel from behind her father's leg.

Albel glared at her, and the girl shyly hid herself. That girl had someone to protect her.. and Albel had lost his. That girl wasn't grateful to her father... once she lost that man, she would understand just how much she truly needed him, just like Albel was feeling him. If Glou was around, he would've been with Albel now. They would've been at home, maybe fitting his Dragon Brigade armor. They would've been celebrating, drinking together. But it was all Albel's fault that Glou was gone, and if only that girl knew.. if only she knew! Then she would stop peeking at Albel from behind the man with fright! With fright, sickened by Albel's injuries! Albel felt a prickle run along his spine, hating that girl already. Oh, he hated her, simply because of the ignorant look she gave him, simply because she had a father. Simply because… because… She had no injuries upon herself. Albel wished she was the one who knew what this felt like. But before he could yell at her, the man nudged his daughter away and left to go look for whoever he was looking for. Albel left as well, following them. He was curious, wondering as to why these… these _Aquarians_ were here. The girl constantly looked back at Albel, clinging to her father's hand as if Albel was some terrifying monster coming to devour her entire being. "Oh! There you are!" Cried out Woltar, who then laughed. The man laughed as well, and the two shook hands. Woltar looked down to the girl, who was looking back to Albel hiding behind the corner, a hateful stare in his eyes. "Oh? Miss?" The girl looked to Woltar, a sickening 'pleasant' and 'cheerful' look on her face, sucking up and being all 'cute' to Woltar. It made Albel sick. "Ignore him." Was all Woltar said before he turned back to the man. Albel's eyes went wide, shocked and angered at the fact that Woltar said he should be ignored, once again affirmed that the life he knew had turned its back on him. If Glou was alive, everyone but the King and a few others would've gotten down on their knees and kissed the very dirt Albel walked on. No one disrespected the Nox bloodline. But now, he was simply to be ignored? When the little red-haired girl looked back with curious blue eyes, the boy was missing. Her fingers entwined with her father's for comfort, a little bit of fear creeping in. Well, monsters hid in the shadows, didn't they? She was afraid that boy would sneak up on her from somewhere, so she kept close to her father.

Albel, meanwhile, hurried back to the doctor's room, only to find the man back there with a box of iron parts and playing around with them… or something. The doctor didn't look up to the boy, simply ordering him to get more rest as he would get a present in the morning. Curious as to what that was, he eyed the box one more time before he reluctantly went under the bed sheets and closed his eyes. It was a little early, but today's events left him a little dizzy, since he was still a little low on blood.


	4. An Arm for an Arm

By the time Albel woke up, the sun was directly overhead. Not that he could tell within the dark confines of the castle, of course. The room was quiet, save for the crackle of the torches as Albel sat up, sighing as he looked around and saw nothing but a lump of metal on the table. Well, not really a lump, it had some form, but Albel couldn't tell what it was. As he stood up and moved closer, his focus picked out the shape of an arm, including fingers and the like. It wasn't a very attractive thing, but Albel could tell already what this was for. Picking up the heavy metal arm with some difficulty, he watched the forearm and the hand flop back and forth as he moved the arm a few ways. It wasn't very flexible, and sounded kind of annoying... and Albel didn't like it. In fact, he dropped in back on the table without care, sitting back on the bed until the doctor came in with the man from the day before. The little girl was following as well, but her father nudged her out of the room and shut the door. The dark brown eyes of the young boy glared at the man as he came closer. The doctor grabbed the arm, not at all noticing that it had been moved when Albel had found it. "Albel, this is going to replace the arm you lost. While you age, you will gain new arms to accommodate the changes." He nodded, showing it to Albel. "With this man's help, we will fuse the arm to your upper arm. Of course, when the spell wears off, we will get a new arm for you." He nodded, and Albel merely huffed before looking away. "Whatever." He grumbled, and then his breath hitched in his chest when he saw the rag being held out to him. The same rag that had been in his mouth when that infernal doctor butchered off Albel's burnt arm.

"Like I said, we have to fuse metal to flesh. It will be a painful process, Albel. The arm will act much like your other arm; it will act upon thoughts sent by your brain. Although, an advantage is that you will not feel pain in this arm." He nodded, watching as Albel reluctantly took the rag. Well... a clunky arm was better than none, right? And he had already suffered enough pain. This couldn't possibly be any worse. Watching as the doctor began removing bandages, exposing blistered and raw flesh; Albel winced when the prosthetic was pushed over his existing arm and grated against sensitive spots. Biting onto the rag, he glared at the arm was held in place, the doctor adjusting it so it wouldn't be put on in a twisted fashion. The man then placed one hand against the metal arm, and runes flared up in a blood red color on the man's body and on the arm. Albel gasped and bit down firmly as he felt what was possibly the barely-healed wound being torn open again, something puncturing into his flesh, twisting and tearing. His legs curled up under him, his hand gripping the rag tightly to try and pull it out while his teeth bit down harder to keep it in. Unlike all of the other procedures, this one was a lot faster and Albel panted once it finished. Strangely, there was no blood dripping, and the doctor reached under the arm and tightened a few leather straps to make it tight. It wasn't enough to simply fuse the two together, as a strong enough blow might rip the pieces apart. So there was a part of the arm that went nearly to Albel's shoulder like a brace, with the adjusting straps on the underside of his arm.

Albel stared at the heavy arm, his body bent slightly to the left since the weight dragged him down. With a bit of effort, he sat straight and winced at the metal pulling down on his sensitive injury. But the fingers twitched violently for a moment as the surge of brainwaves went into the hand. Albel gasped, eyes wide when he spotted the twitching. Finally, they relaxed and the metal hand closed into a fist, the arm bending at the elbow. His shoulder twisted, flexing and trying the arm in all various ways. It was very heavy, but he figured he would get used to it eventually. Like a dragon wearing a saddle, or something like that. There was a tinge of red in Albel's eyes by now, as the runology was affecting him more than simply getting him a new arm. Albel by then couldn't help but smile, laughing as he moved his arm. The man smiled before walking away, and the doctor followed. Smiling as he looked to his arm, he continued flexing it, keeping his arm lifting so that he would try and build up his muscles for this damned heavy thing. Hopping out of bed and pulling on a new pair of slacks and a white shirt, Albel found that the fingers were a little clumsy, but not so terrible. In all glee, he rushed outside and hurried to his home. He suddenly skidded to a stop when he remembered, staring at the door. Opening it slightly, he listened to the inside noise, hearing absolutely nothing. Sighing, he stepped into the dark home, staring at how everything was untouched from when he and Glou last had breakfast together. In fact... now that Albel thought of it, had they even given Glou a proper burial? Albel didn't know. Feeling sick to his stomach, wondering whether or not his father was Dragon dung, Albel looked around and grabbed his clothing, since there was no way the king would allow a boy to own a house by himself, if he couldn't pay the taxes. Within a few days, Albel figured someone would move in and simply take everything, so Albel took as much as he could, taking several trips back to the castle, hiding everything in a guest room that he figured to take.

When he finally made the last trip back to the castle, he panted a little before taking a short break. His arm was aching terribly, begging to be allowed a rest. But Albel refused that wish of his body, going out to the training yard and watching some of the soldiers practice with each other. It would be weeks, possibly months before Albel would be well enough to fight with these men again. So he simply stood by a well-used dummy, watching the men. One of the men was constantly glancing over, getting irritated by the spectator. He was of the black brigade, still upset over having lost his captain. "You!" The man snapped, stopping the practice with the other man. Walking over, he glared at Albel, he took a few steps back. "Get out of here! You're going to screw me up, you cursed brat!" He snarled, and Albel glared before running away.

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Author's Note: Gwah. I'm so sorry about this chapter. I was kind of brain-dead today. Only two pages long? Hm. Ah well! Maybe the next chapter will be better. I plan on lots of things happening. Lots. ….Trust me.

Albel: …Would you stop screwing with me already?


	5. Who let the cows out?

((I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry! I don't remember when I last even thought about the fanfiction! Been so busy, I'm sorry. Forgive me! I need inspiration…))

As Albel ran from the irritated man, his feet pounded against the ground, giving off knowledge to anyone around him about how hard he was trying to run. But this task was soon very tiring, especially with the new weight upon his shoulders. ….Literally. Soon, his feet turned from slapping against the ground, to landing on his toes and then having short bursts from shoving himself forward. Albel didn't even stop when he traveled past his house, he didn't stop even at the gates of the glyphian city, and he didn't even stop when he ran right past a monster. In surprise from the boy seeming to have come out of nowhere, the small hedge-hog like creatures shrieked and bristled up in an attempt to attack him, but the flying needles fell short.

Tears stung his eyes, the harsh mountain climate almost freezing them even as they were still attached to his eyes. As the blood pumped through his system, his brown eyes reacted and were slowly turning even redder than before, as a reaction from the amount of symbology used on him. His toes caught upon a rock, and Albel barely uttered even a gasp before the ground flew up to greet his face. Stars were instantly blinding him, his lower lip bleeding as it had gotten caught under his teeth. Wincing, his good arm shifted forward and clawed at the ground, slowly trying to pick himself up. It was painful, now that the effort upon his legs was coming to haunt him in low echoes, all through his muscles in short pulses, repeating over and over again. His arm ached where the prosthetic was attached, and Albel rubbed it gently. Looking around, he scowled as he was still upon the cliff of the mountain. _I only got this far? _He thought bitterly to himself as his tongue stroked the wound on his lip and he drank it, simply to clean it off. Standing up, he wobbled slightly as he attempted to move across the path. Standing at the edge of the cliff, he stared down into the smaller glyphian villages, possibly miles down the mountain. These were the poorer villages… Made of people who could not afford to live within the crowded protection of the city walls. They were the farmers, the men and women who raised, bred, and slaughtered the livestock of Airyglyph. As Albel turned away, a piece of the mountain crumbled beneath his feet. Before one could even blink, Albel had disappeared.

His scream was blood-curdling, terrified, and all of the air being ripped from his lungs as he plummeted. Albel knew that the weight of his arm was dragging him down faster and faster, but all he knew was that this was not going to end well. _I'm going to die, Oh, Apris, I'm going to die!_ He sobbed internally, only because he had no more air to cry with. Though, the tears were drifting from his eyes, going into the air like small diamonds as they strained for their freedom. At this rate, they might be the last tears Albel ever shed.

How long was he falling? How long would he have to endure this torture? When was he going to die? Albel had no idea, and he was too scared to turn over and face his death. …Glou never would've cried during this. He probably would've just said "Oh shit", and turned over to let his death come. Why? He was the captain of the Dragon Brigade. Death was going to come sooner or later, so why not embrace it when it arrived? But Albel was too scared, too alone to have that strength. As if to a response to those childish internal whimperings, Albel gasped sharply when his back slammed into the slope of the mountain. But before he could do anything about that, his head followed the motion and thusly slammed into the ground as well. Instead of stars this time, everything went black in and instant. His body, by inertia and gravity, bounced from the landing spot and then rolled about another thousand feet due to the slope, dragging rocks and such with himself, clothes getting torn on bramble and other things. Finally when he stopped, his was at the edge of a tiny pasture. The cows of the pasture had been staring the whole time, curious as to what was bouncing their way. One cow moved forward to the bludgeoned and bloody boy, sniffing him before it licked his brown hair and mooed loudly to try and wake him up. Albel remained unconscious, unable to notice as the cow simply laid down right beside him to make sure no other cows stepped on the boy. Why? The farm had several other boys about Albel's height, and the cow without much knowledge, thought that this one was one of the boys, just sleeping. ….Or something.

After nearly a half hour, an older man stepped out of his cabin to check on the cows before he noticed a particular white and brown mottled bess laying beside something definitely non-dairy-like, and the disturbed mountain slope as well. Cursing to himself, he charged forward, startling several cows as he skidded to a stop about ten feet away. Well, what if this thing had just been some clumsy monster? He didn't want to get too close then. But seeing the brown hair and the pale flesh, he moved closer and grabbed Albel's shoulder, rolling him onto his back before looking around. "Kid? Hey, kid!" He hissed, not wanting to startle his family that was still in the cabin and starting to make dinner. Patting Albel's cheek lightly, he then leaned close and put his head to the boy's chest, not very firmly though, in case of broken ribs. Hearing the gentle beating of the heart, he sighed in relief. At least he wouldn't have to inform the king about finding a boy's body on his farm… Slipping his arms under the boy, he hesitated at feeling just how truly heavy the arm was. At first, he had though it just to be some kind of decoration, or maybe one of those new-fangled weapons, but now having to pick up the boy, he found it to be truly heavy. Though.. not too heavy that the man couldn't lift Albel with ease, but the fact that the boy was the one to be lugging such a weight around. But, the man could do nothing about it, as he knew nothing of working with metals. Taking the boy back to his cabin, he sighed in thinking of just how the wife and kids would take to their battered guest. Kicking open the door, he stepped inside carefully to not hit Albel against the frame, ignoring the gasps of the family and the cries of confusion. Walking over to the several beds, Albel set the boy down in his own bed, because it was large and comfortable. The family followed, staring still. "I imagine this kid came from the city.." He murmured softly, sighing as he stepped to the window and looked to the path so high above where a chunk of rock was missing. "Or maybe Kirlsa… But all I know is he took one hell of a fall. Came from the path, and he's still breathing, somehow."


	6. Uh Ch 6, Pt 1? xD

_There was darkness all around... suffocating, consuming, grabbing. The Glyphian could feel it wound about his body like a spider's web, the strands sickeningly sticky and tight. He couldn't feel his arms moving at all, fingers frozen! All muscles and limbs refused to budge in addition, his mind racing, heart pounding and feeling himself wishing to scream. Though, the darkness covered his mouth as well, blocking off any noises. He could feel his breath; hot and fast, panic-laced and desperate. Chest heaving, fighting against the darkness, pain racing through his body against the bindings. Albel wanted to scream even louder now, terrified beyond all doubt. He could not see where he was, he could not smell, he could not hear, and he could not touch. Had he died? He wasn't sure, but he knew this wasn't Hell. Hell was supposed to be all fire and brimstone, right? With maniac demons and banshees, and all other sorts of mythical spawns of Satan! Where were they!? Even those foul things would give the boy comfort in knowing where he was, but he knew nothing. There was more fear in knowing nothing at all, than knowing at least where you were. If he knew where he was.. he would know what was happening to him… Why he couldn't move, why he was in pain like always, why there were no smells, and so on. There was mumbled garble from what sounded like miles and miles away, but he couldn't tell what the words were. Ears straining, he tried to listen, but more voices followed while his brain was still locked on the first words. Now he was confused, everything getting mixed and jumbled in his brain. He felt like crying, confused beyond all belief. What the hell was going on!? Finally, his head broke free of any barrier, and his head tossed back and forth to make sure he was free completely. Opening his mouth, he let out a scream, hoping something.. anything at all would hear him. The voices stopped, and he fell silent, breath still coming in short bursts._

Albel's eyes opened, his gaze flickering wildly from one person to another while they all stood and stared at him. "What... what are you looking at!?" He snapped, wondering who they were. "Where am I!? Who are you!?"

The old man had peppered hair, and a work-worn face, just like the old woman standing next to him. He stood at about six feet, and was wearing a casual white tunic with brown trousers and suspenders. He even had that stereotypical straw hat, but lacked the bit of straw sticking out of his mouth to really resemble what Albel had always imagined a farmer looking like. The woman, though, looked only a few years younger than the man, but they still looked rather aged, maybe in their late forties. There were four children; three boys and a girl all standing there as well. The boys looked rather close in age, but all still looked several years older than Albel, maybe around twenty. The girl, though, was closer to Albel's age. All of the men seemed to have matching clothing, while the girls wore plain dresses and white aprons. The girl had bobbed blonde hair and blue eyes, a real cute girl, if Albel hadn't been so scared from the rollover of fright from his dream. The woman and her daughter looked positively frightened, but they didn't leave the room. The older man smiled a little, glad that the boy he found at least could wake up and speak. "I found ya in the field, Kiddo. Looked like you had one hell of a fall!"

Wary, Albel watched the man, waiting.. just waiting for him to grow fangs, sprout horns and a tail, to let his flesh turn red.. anything. But nothing happened. Albel tried to lift his head, but he realized his entire body was bandaged now, preventing the movement of his limbs. ..Or were all of his bones busted? "Sorry kid, but you were screaming like a banshee earlier... we gave you some medicine we normally give to cows to knock 'em out for a while... It worked. That was a while ago, but even before that, you've been out cold for almost five days now. Ma here has been feedin' you her stew." He grinned, and the older woman smiled sheepishly, giving a light wave. Albel's gaze went to her, eyes narrowing a little. He was now expecting her to turn into a siren, or something, but still nothing. Okay.. so maybe this wasn't hell. But he was still cautious of strangers who just brought him into their house and gave them bed and food without expecting anything back… there had to be something behind all of this! He wished he could speak, but his tongue felt swollen and dumb. There was no way he could speak coherently to these people while the drug was still in his system. "My name is John, Ma is Em, but you'll call her Ma no matter what, that's Joey, Rob, and Daniel. Our littlest one is named Sarah." The man beamed brightly, and the girl curtsied while the boys just nodded in greeting. "What's your name?" John asked, and Albel blinked, finally calming a little.

"Ah… Ah-beh." He mumbled through his drunken tongue, and it took all of them a few moments to realize he was still drugged. "Albel?" The youngest boy—Daniel-- asked, having heard about Glou's recent death when he visited Airyglyph to trade in a cow for food. Albel nodded at the correct name. "What a funny name." Sarah giggled to her comment, since no one would say anything else. Albel scowled, wishing to tell her that she looked like good prostitute material. Those were always wandering around the town, and a majority of them were blond and pretty, just like her. Since he could hardly talk, there really was no point in making long conversations with Albel. So the farmer stepped forward gently patting Albel on the shoulder. "Hey, Kid. Don't be scared. We're gonna take care of you, and get you back home." He nodded, and Albel nodded as well as he began to think back on previous words. He had been sleeping for how many days now? Four, was it? Or had the man said five? He couldn't remember. He just hoped it hadn't been as long as five, but then again, both amounts of time were pretty long for Albel, used to falling asleep when it was dark and waking up even before the sun rose. Albel merely nodded again, almost like he couldn't remember that he had nodded already, and the man laughed a little. "Well, just rest, Kid. You'll get better, soon." And with that, the man left.

((Sorry, another short chapter. But I plan on making this specific chapter in parts! Whoo! Especially since right now, I'm dead tired and can't write anymore. xD;;; I keep forgetting, I'm so sorry. ;; So now it's 3:30 AM! xD Hope you like reading. I'll hopefully get the next part (same chapter) in within the week. Maybe tomorrow, since it's going to be a boring day as always. Dx ))


	7. Ch 6, Pt 2

Several hours rolled by, and the time the cow tranquilizer wore off, all Albel could do was black out frequently, or cry. What he couldn't tell from under the bandages was that there had been severe damage from the fall; bones had been busted, skin broken with shattered ends of those bones protruding and various small fractures everywhere as well. The man had spent a great deal of time trying to re-set those bones that were going every-which way, but it wasn't perfect. The pain of all the severed nerves, desperate for connection were flaring constantly, telling Albel that he should be feeling pain in his fingers, despite his arm being broken enough that another amputation would be easy since the bone had broken clear through. It would be like cutting through tender meat, of course. The farmer came in during one of these bouts of pain, holding a corked bottle. The glass of the bottle was dark, so Albel couldn't tell just what was inside.

"Kid? Me an' my family pooled our money together for this.. it was real expensive… but we hope it works for you. It's one of them new-fangled 'potions'. I don't believe in that hog-wash, but hey.. we really want to help yeh, kid. Honestly, we can't feed you. We want you out, since yeh can't work." Albel panted heavily, trying to suppress the pain so he could understand this man, glaring slightly. He then nodded, understanding that they couldn't keep him. It wasn't like he wanted to stay, anyways. This place smelled of cows.. and pigs… and all the shit that came with them. The man stepped forward and uncorked the bottle, placing it to Albel's lips. With a tilt of his head and parting of his lips, he let the drink pour into his mouth. Once the bottle was empty, Albel looked up to the man expectantly. Nothing was happening.

Though once the man gave up hope, he sighed and turned, Albel yelped sharply. A cool feeling began to spread from what felt like the top of his head, all the way down to his toes. It was numbing, and frankly.. eerie for the first time of using the potion. He couldn't feel what was going on, but he could almost see slight movements under his bandages as the bones gained a life of their own to put them selves in the proper place and heal. It took about five minutes, considering the amount of damage, and when it all seemed to stop, Albel looked up at the farmer, shock all too present in his eyes. The farmer blinked, looking to the bottle again. "…Well?" He asked, and Albel, with his non-flesh arm, reached over and gave his flesh arm a squeeze. Nothing. No pain, and no obvious and disgusting bends in his bones. Carefully starting to removed the tight and binding bandages, Albel let his fingers twitch, and he grinned brightly. Seeing that his arms were good, he then used his claws to tear open the rest of the bandages, inspecting his body. There were no bruises, no cuts, no gashes, and no bones sticking through the flesh. The farmer, shocked as well, merely stared. Albel had nearly been the color of one of those black people, from the number of bruises, and within a few minutes, he was about as pale as he ever was! Once Albel was finished removing the bandages, he stood up carefully. His balance was off from the long while of laying in bed, so he wobbled slightly, but at least he was doing well.

"Put some damn pants on, Kid." The farmer grunted, watching Albel. Blushing, Albel looked around and grabbed his trouser pants, pulling them on quickly. There were girls in the house, after all. Once Albel was dressed, the farmer left the room, and soon enough the other boys came in to look Albel over, seeing if he was going to be any use. He had lived there for nearly a week now, so it was only fair that now he work for a week. Albel had agreed, in repayment for the potion that would get him out of this place faster. "I think he's just good enough for the horses. He don't look too strong to care for the cows.. but I don't think he'd be any good for the chickens. They can be vicious, you know." Daniel smirked, and the other boys followed in suit, laughing under their breath about Albel, who looked none too happy that he was being called weak. He had been fighting since before he could remember, training with his father until recently, and they think he's weak!? He would show them.

And the job he got stuck with? Manure shoveling. Oh, how Albel hated them.

By the end of his weak, Albel sighed as he sat down on a rock, looking back up to the path that he had originally fallen from. No one had come looking for him… Once in a while, he saw distant horses going along the trail with humans, possibly going for trade, since he never saw horses coming back. Idly, he wondered if those horses were sent in to feed those damned dragons… Albel's thoughts were broken by dainty fingers going through his growing hair, splitting the locks into two sections. "Just what do you think you're doing?" He growled over his shoulder, and Sarah giggled. "Just sit still, now! You got such long and pretty hair for a boy. Papa was gonna cut it while you slept, but I told him not to. A girl's life is her hair, and you got such nice hair and girlish fea-" "I AIN'T NO GIRL!!" Albel snapped, whirling around to face her. She giggled, leaning close and giving him a kiss on the cheek. "You're so cute." She giggled, and Albel stood up instantly, staring at her as if she just tried to poison him. "You know, a city boy like yerself doesn't use 'ain't'. You must be pickin' up on our talk." She giggled again, and Albel scowled. "Don't be stupid." He grumbled, turning away. "Lemme play with your hair, Albel. It's too long to be playing around in manure." Albel sighed, and she hurried off, grabbing some of the old bandages. Albel's hair wasn't too long, but still long enough that something could be done with it. Reaching out, she separated it into two again, then tied them back into something like pigtails. When she was finished, she burst out laughing when she saw Albel from the front. "Now you look even more like a girl!" She blurted out, laughing harder. Tearing out the bandages, Albel nearly attacked her, but he couldn't. He was still repaying this family, after all.

"I said I wasn't a girl!" He snapped, making sure to avoid 'hick-talk'. He was about to storm away when she suddenly grabbed his hand, yanking him to face her. "I wanna show you something, Albel! Follow me!" And with that, before he could even argue, her grip tightened and she ran towards the nearby patch of woods on the outskirts of the town. Taking him deep into the woods, she soon stopped at a small clearing with a pool of water. Standing in front of it, she smiled to him. "I come here when I wanna think, or when me and my friends wanna swim. Wanna swim?" She asked, and Albel glared as he could finally cross his arms. "No." She pouted, looking away for a moment before she looked back to Albel. "Mama said I'm old enough to get married, now that I bled." Albel was confused. He bled lots of times… and his father never mentioned marriage. "Albel.. do you wanna marry me?" She asked, smiling brightly. "I think you're a cute and smart boy. You come from the city, too. So you must be rich." Albel just stared at her, confused. Just who the hell did this girl think she was? He didn't want to get married. …Especially not to her. "I'm not going to marry anyone. Not you, not some other girl." She hesitated, staring at him, confused. "Do you like boys, Albel, if you ain't gonna marry me?" Albel was now the confused one. "You can do that?" He asked, then shook his head quickly. "I'm not going to marry _anyone_! No boy, no girl! I don't want anyone!"

"Well, you can't be alone yer whole life.."

"Well, I will be! I'll show you. I don't want anyone. I'm just going to prove to everyone how strong I am! I'll show them all I'm not weak!"

"That's a stupid goal. Do something better."

Albel glared at her, and promptly struck her across the face. "Don't you dare tell me my goal is stupid! You don't know anything!!" He growled, and she stared at him before she ran away, holding her cheek.

Albel huffed as he stood there, watching as Sarah disappeared into the woods. "Fool." He hissed under his breath, and went to turn away, until he heard Sarah's scream. Turning back around to the direction of the sound, he hesitated, wondering if he should go or not. But the better of him took over, and he took off into a run towards her.


	8. A Little Luck

It seemed like Albel was running everywhere lately... Away from problems, and right into them. Why did things have to go so badly? Was this punishment for the one time he tugged on a girl's hair back when he was seven, just because he didn't like her? Or that time he kicked a dog because it followed him home? Or… or… So many things played through his mind, both good and bad. He wasn't even sure of where he was going, as he was thinking so hard, at least until he heard another sharp scream, this time long, this time more agonized than frightened. His blood felt frozen, his feet felt like lead, and the arm heavier than ever. What was going on!? Though, the sound was much closer than before. Coming to a stop, he looked around in desperation, hoping for anything... a sight, a sound, a signal? A miracle even? Anything! Looking to his feet, he saw a small strip of fabric, that closely resembled the girl's blue dress. Though, it was muddy and ripped, as well as surrounded by animal tracks. His gaze followed the direction before he began running again, this time the effort more excruciating as fear continued to amount on him. The man who owned the farm would kill him, if he didn't just evict him! He needed to get Sarah back home safely, with as little injuries as possible. Though as time continued to wear on, Albel almost swore that he was slowing down with the weight of doubt. He doubted he could make it in time… not now. It had been too long. Even if he did make it, he doubted he could fight the animal off. Closing his eyes tightly, he remembered the remarks of soldiers; useless, weak, pathetic, so on and so forth. Before he knew it, hot tears were running down his face, and he had come upon the murder scene.

The tears continued to fall as he saw the wolves all with their heads lowered, burying their faces into the carcass of the bloodied girl, into that blood-stained dress. Albel could see her face... terrifyingly turned towards him. The dilated eyes were wide in terror, directly upon his person.. he could almost feel her silent question piercing him.. 'why?' Why anything? Why hadn't he been faster? On time? Kinder? Anything! His hands clenched into fists, eyes narrowing. "I hate you." He hissed to Sarah. "I _hate_ you." He growled, slightly louder this time. One of the wolves looked back and the ears lowered, fur on its back bristling as it bared crimson-stained teeth before it went back to eating, seeing that Albel wasn't doing anything but stand there. _You can be eaten by these furry maggots... become their excrement, stepped on and all while being fertilizer… But I'm still going to hate you._ He thought, eyes narrowing. A sort of fire began to build within his chest, and he let out a huff. How dare she depend on him..? How dare he... How dare he go after her? He could've walked away, easily enough, and forgotten about her… Said she simply disappeared and never came back. But now things were just going to be harder. The same wolf looked back to Albel, seeing he hadn't left yet. The threat to their meal was felt by the others, thinking he was some scavenger. The rest of their bloodied muzzles lifted from her torn and removed entrails, golden eyes upon the thirteen year old boy. Eyes were locked, ears flattening, fur bristling… They were ready to protect their meal, and Albel would just be another snack for this pack of six. Albel didn't move, each testing each other's strength, waiting for the first move from the other. Finally, a younger wolf, impatient, darted forward with a battle cry. Albel felt his blood run cold and his vision felt clouded. Though, without even thinking about it, his arm lashed out and the metallic fingers slammed into the wolf's face and there was a horrible cracking sound before the wolf dropped dead. Albel's breath quickened as he looked to the wolf at his feet, blood flowing from its mouth, ears, and eyes. Crimson eyes widened, and the corners of his lips lifted upwards. An image of the strangled prisoner flashed in his mind's eye, and he looked back to the other wolves who were growling now. Eyes narrowed, and Albel felt the power of having this prosthetic… The power of an invulnerable limb. Frostbite… disease… wounds. Nothing would touch this arm. It would be his shield and weapon until he could find a weapon for his right hand, and then he would be omni-powerful. If he could be faster, even… Albel could feel a shiver of delight run along his spine. Then he would make his father proud… Prove he wasn't useless. Prove he wasn't some defect child. Looking up, Albel saw the other wolves charging at him, leaving the disemboweled girl behind. With five left, Albel felt the power of this hope coursing through him, destroying doubt and fear. He wouldn't allow these mongrels to destroy his dreams!!

The closest wolf leapt at Albel; claws and fangs bared for a double strike in addition to using the wolf's body to tackle Albel to the ground. The hand flew up, slamming the lower jaw upwards. Teeth cracked, breaking, fangs slamming into the gums, bones breaking. The other hand lashed out, throat grabbed and squeezed as tightly as Albel could managed before the wolf was simply pushed over his head, following through with the wolfs path of travel. It cried out, slamming into a tree where its neck snapped promptly and it crumpled to the ground. "Eliminate!" He hissed while baring his teeth as barbarically as the wolves did. One wolf bit the metallic arm, but Albel only grinned and kicked it violently in the chest, breaking the ribs and shoving his foot even deeper to crush the heart, and then using the still latched-on wolf as a weapon against the next one; slamming them together. "_Eliminate_!!" He hissed, eyes wide with blood lust, the crimson color fierce and prominent. The last wolf came to a sudden halt as it began to asses the situation. Its comrades were killed with ease… All by this kid who looked only about as old as the girl they had eaten. Though, the stop was its downfall. If it had been any smarter, it would've turned tail and run by now. Albel, overcome by bloodlust, grabbed the wolf and slammed it into a tree, pressing all of his weight into it and crushing the skull. As the body went limp, his eyes widened, almost as if realizing his deed… But that thought was lost as he then grinned and dropped the body, looking to his blood-covered metal hand. Oh, if these fingers were claws, **_the damage_**! With no other opponents though, Albel calmed down, his breath starting to ease and his pounding heart starting to calm down as well. Blood steadily dripped from his fingers as he walked over to the girl. Those clouded and dilated eyes… Her face pale, hair stringy and messy. Her body, torn open with organs torn apart and pulled out. Albel couldn't help but to stare, almost picture what her body looked like before the wolves had begun to remove things. Then, he merely turned away. Well, now calming down, and sickened by the sight as well as too much adrenaline, he coughed and suddenly crumpled to his knees. Bile poured from his mouth as he gagged, heaving and panting. His throat burned… The taste in his mouth making him heave even more, emptying his stomach until there was nothing left. Grimacing, he spat, trying to remove the taste before he struggled to stand to his feet again, wandering back to the farm. It took him nearly an hour to find his way back, and by then, he had cleaned himself of blood and vomit, and occasional leave or twig that had managed to get stuck in his hair. Like nothing had happened, he went back to work.

By evening, the family had grown very worried, but Albel merely played along, toying with them, saying that she had gone off to some boy's house, or that he had seen her once in a while during the day. Though now, at night, the family was worried. Albel tried to comfort them, saying she would most definitely be back by morning, and then finally, they went to sleep. Albel, as calm as ever, moved about the house while taking anything he might need. Hesitating as his foot hit a rather hollow sounding spot on the floor, he looked down and then about before he knelt, pulling up the boards. To his amazement, he found a long sword. It was rusted, but the form of it was beautiful. Simple, yet graceful. This katana was immediately seized by Albel, who hurried outside and began pouring oil and dumped hay around the side of the house before he struck a spark upon it, watching it go up in flames with the family inside. By the time anyone had taken notice to the fire, Albel was already well up along the mountain path, watching from at least three-hundred feet up. A smirk pulled at his lips, watching the commotion. At the inferno going… there was no way any of those people would survive. No one knew about him in the village, so no one would connect any of the deaths to him. He definitely wasn't about to get in trouble for the girls' death. The fire was, in short, beautiful. Sitting on the edge of the path, he watched as it light up the night. His hand touched the hilt of the worn and slightly rusty katana at his waist, and he lightly laughed to himself. _Tonight was a good night… It's starting to look up from here._


	9. The Art of Battle

(( -Raises pen high, lightning striking it for dramatic effect- I have RETURNED! Brain-dead, and done with the first semester of college. Whoo! More violence! –Crowd cheers-))

Standing up slowly from his seat on the mountain path, Albel's crimson eyes remained locked upon the scene, a wicked grin almost permanently etched on to his face. He knew he had killed people. The prisoner who was probably going to die anyways, and that farming family that was innocent of any crime, as far as Albel knew. If anyone ever found out about Albel's deeds… he would be sent to prison to rot away. Frowning a little at the thought, he just turned his face towards the city of Airyglyph, ignoring the light bit of snow that was starting to fall and drift about around him.

As he passed the gates of the city, Albel just ignored the few stares of the people who still did not understand Albel's arm. He just ignored them. They would be punished later for their stupidity and inability to mind their own business. Stomping up to his room, he ignored the old man, Woltar, who had called out in worry. After all, Albel had been missing quite some time, and now he returns with a sword? Sitting down upon his bed, Albel held the sheath of the blade and pulled it out a tad clumsily. He had never truly wielded a sword like this, so he grunted as he managed to drop the sheath and it clattered to the floor, and he tried to pick it up, only bashing the tip of the blade against the stone floor without realizing just how long it was. Huffing as the katana still rang out in protest from whacking into the stone but quieted down, Albel looked over the bits of rust before frowning. At the rate the sword was going, even a single strike against a straw dummy would send this heap of junk breaking in two! Growling under his breath, he attempted to shove it back into the sheath, only to hear that snap he should have expected. And looking to his hand, he sighed at seeing only the hilt in hand, with a bare inch of iron sticking out. Like he thought… heap of junk.

Throwing the hilt to the floor, Albel stood up and dropped the sheath as well, just kicking it under his bed to throw away later. Even though the sword was useless… it did intrigue him enough that when he had the money, he would surely seek out a new one. A much nicer katana. He then smirked at the thought… the thought of how people wouldn't treat him like crap anymore, not once he knew how to fight. He would be feared, and never once give people mercy. If they were prisoners, then what mercy did they deserve? They deserved nothing but punishment for their crimes. If they lived through it, then it would have been a hard lesson learned indeed, he was sure. Could he stop crime? Probably not. Repeat offenders? Maybe. But the biggest one on his mind was to kill every last dragon. Sure, there were few that had their uses, but those wild ones he could do without. He would have to train quite a bit before he could kill those, though.

Walking back out of his room, Albel gently adjusted his tunic before looking to Woltar. "Where have you been, Albel?" Woltar asked, curious about the disappearance of the boy. "Off a cliff." He grunted, and then just headed out to the training yard as Woltar stared, not quite understanding it. Was it some new phrase kids used these days? It was very strange. Ignoring the men training, Albel headed directly for the grinding wheel where men could sharpen their weapons. Instead, he put his foot to the pedal and looking to the metallic fingers, pressed them against the wheel. At first they just bounced off from the speed of the wheel, but Albel tried again, now just pressing harder so they wouldn't come right back. Sparks began to fly from the metal being sheared off, but as Albel kept working at it, he wore down the bottom of his fingers, then began to sharpen them at angles, one finger at a time. Thankfully, there was no pain whatsoever as Albel finished, finding the fingers to be half-missing by the end, but now they were in vicious points, like five small daggers. He frowned, knowing that this wouldn't be the best way. Surely, there had to be a pre-made arm like this in the shops. He would have to look into it. Though he turned to the nearest straw dummy and looked at his fingers, whispering faith into them before he snarled, lunging forward and whipping his arm in front of himself to claw at the dummy like some kind of cat. Pulling back, he stared at the dummy, which had quite a large gash cut into the belly, where he had gone for. Smirking, he chuckled to himself before he looked at his hand, frowning at seeing the straw chunks stuck on his fingers. With a sigh, Albel began to pick off the pieces, now unsure if he had actually made a cut, or he had just gone and ripped out the straw. This idea didn't seem to work out too well, but he still wanted to look into the weapon shops for something better, something sharpened by a professional hand. Both claws, and a blade. A weapon for each hand, his arm itself a shield. He would be a force to be reckoned with! Scowling at the soldiers donned in black armor, he headed back inside, now knowing that he would have to explain himself to Woltar if the man ever saw his fingers. That man worried far more about him than his father ever did. It got annoying really fast.

Just like he thought, Woltar seemed to notice the fingers and immediately began to pester Albel. Though as the boy just walked to his room, he lifted his hand and dug the nails into the stone, smirking as there was a horrendous screeching noise following the claws. It was always so fun for the one doing it, but every person in the room who had to listen cried out in agony, hands clamped tightly over their ears. He snickered to himself, going into his room and again ignoring the broken sword as he peeked at his little jar of money and spilled it out on to his bed to quickly count how much he had. …It was barely enough for some basil. Sighing, he glanced around and then looked underneath his dresser, his bed, and anything else for maybe any coins that had been dropped, but he found none. Well, killing off a few hundred monsters would not only fetch him a nice amount of Fol, but the experience would be great to his fighting ability. And then he could buy that sword, and kill some more, and then buy the claws if they existed, and kill some more! It was a good thing that it seemed no other soldier had this mindset. Otherwise the fields would be crowded with soldiers trying to kill monsters, and they would just be driven out altogether. Sometimes it was a good thing to be a little sadistic. There were a lot more advantages than being a little 'goody-two-shoes'. Grabbing his jar of he threw it into his pack and grabbed a large plank of lumber as well from some fading sign as he hurried outside. Spotting the nearest porcupine, Albel grinned and rushed at it, holding the plank up high to bash it over the head for an easy kill. The creature looked up at him before squeaking in fright, quills bristling before it turned its back to Albel. Throwing himself to the snow just in time, Albel growled as the quills shot past jwhere he had been standing a moment ago. Scrambling to his feet and kicking up some snow in the process, Albel lunged again and before it could attack again, Albel struck it hard over the head, stunning it from the blow. Though a stun would never get anyone anywhere, now would it? Without even thinking, Albel swung again and again, glaring as he finally bashed it to death, the snow bloodied and the body limp. Smirking, he used his claws to cut open the creature's belly, finding some Fol inside that it had swallowed, thinking it was food before Albel threw his gain into his jar before putting his pack over his shoulder again. Well, that wasn't hard at all.


	10. The Beginning of the End

As time slowly passed for Albel, he continued going about his reckless and violent mannerisms. Every single day was filled with bloodshed of monsters, the theft of their odd gains, and then more slaughter. The soldiers of Airyglyph just never understood the boy as he steadily grew older as the seasons passed, and his mind continued to twist and be tormented. Whenever Albel had to pass the dragon chambers, for a very long time he would skitter on by like a mouse past a sleeping feline. Eventually, Albel would pass by with more confidence, but that certainly didn't mean he stopped loathing the beasts that had caused him to murder his father by failure. His hair grew longer, to the point that Albel simply stopped caring and had it tied back in to two ropes, and bound with a long ribbon to keep it out of the way. His heart was utterly blackened, and Albel had not a single friend in all of Airyglyph, save for Woltar who continued to worry over the young man despite the fact that Albel didn't give a single damn for the man who was growing older and his hair was turning white, and his hands starting to wrinkle and curl.

Not a single man was brave enough to confront Albel, who had developed enough of a reputation of being so wicked that he would even kill a fellow soldier for crossing him. Of course, Albel had done so once before, but that was because Albel was experiencing one of his usual night terrors, and the soldier had merely come in to Albel's room to see why the man was screaming in his slumber. Unfortunately for the soldier, Albel's claws were much sharper than the soldier's throat could withstand, and Albel had been awoken when he was suddenly being splashed with the hot blood gushing from the throat. By now, no one really remembered why Albel cried out in his sleep. They only knew the man that Albel presented at the moment; a vicious, black-hearted man who cared not for anyone but himself. Not a single person would be allowed within arm's length, and anyone who came within that distance literally would find themselves looking down the length of Albel's trademark katana, or even the claws.

Albel, to toughen himself against the winters, now wore nothing but thin and small clothes that showed off the fruit of his labors; his toned muscles and his thin body, which didn't hide his physique from his enemies. Besides, why hide the fact he had muscles from those he was going to kill? They should know immediately who they were dealing with, and what kind of strength he had. His body was weathered to the ice and snow that almost always covered the mountainous terrain of Airyglyph, and his heart was just as cold. Now in his twenties, many girls had tried to be with Albel, but they were driven away to the point that no one tried anymore. Albel was simply a lost cause to the world; he had no one, wanted no one, and that would never change.

With all of the runology needed to keep Albel's prosthetic arm attached, his eyes had completely turned crimson. He was truly Albel the Wicked, and Albel had force his way into the Black Brigade, being nothing more than a carrier at first. He toted the flag, he carried the shields, the buckets of water for the higher soldiers before he was a soldier finally, and then eventually clawed his way up into the ranks to prove that he deserved a seat of power. Damn, it felt good to know you were better than everyone else. As Albel stared down at the solders who were training at the Kirlsa training facility, he gently scratched his chin before he looked to his commanding officer. Albel was forced to wear the heavy black armor still, as he wasn't the commander yet. It was uniform, after all. Recently, the Aquarians had been rising up against Airyglyph, who was trying to push it's way into the more fertile lands. Food was scarce, and the economy was terrible if the people were starving and unable to purchase good food. Training had become more and more intense, the Aquarian spies and soldiers sneaking their way in sometimes and making small raids on the border of Glyphian territory. Now, a full-scale war was nearly in effect.

Within moments, Albel twisted as he heard a distant yell from below and he peeked from over the battlement before a grappling hook flew past his face and scraped against the stone before catching. With a snarl, Albel peeked over to stare down at an Aquarian soldier who was beginning to climb up the rope. As he was about to cut the rope with his katana, an arrow flew past Albel's head and he was forced to duck. With a snarl of anger for such actions, Albel turned to his commanding officer, only to find that the man was downed; an arrow between the eyes. Rolling his eyes in disgust at how this man could possibly have ever lead the soldiers, Albel twisted to the men who were panicking at the sudden attack. "Get in formation, maggots! Alpha formation, barricade the third floor and protect the elevator! Delta, stay here and fight, you fools!" He snarled, and within moments half of his men had disappeared to do his bidding before Albel suddenly raced along the battlements to cut down as many of the ropes as possible, but he wasn't fast enough before soldiers were scrambling over the walls. With a growl, Albel's eyes narrowed and his claws lashed out; a grin pulling at his face as the man let out a horrible scream from the depths of his lungs as one of his eyes were torn out, and the rest of his face was in ribbons from the claws. "Take that, worm!" Albel sneered, shoving the man off of the battlement before a solder attempted to stab Albel from behind, but thankfully the heavy black armor protected Albel. Though, the man was resourceful enough to shove Albel off of the battlements and towards the rest of the brigade, hoping that the fall would kill Albel. It didn't, but it did quite a number on the armor, that just about fell off as Albel sat upright and held his head that felt as though it were spinning. Yanking off the rest of the clunky armor, Albel felt refreshed, not needing to lug around the extra weight. Besides… a real warrior took the blows and ignored them. What didn't kill you made you stronger, right? So all Albel had to do was not get a fatal wound and he would be good to go.

Within moments, the flood of soldiers were pouring in from over the walls and the brigade was fighting for their lives, many of them being new recruits who had yet to know the taste of blood lust. Although Albel had already scrambled back up the wall and found himself a safe spot to look down the side to find the leader, who was doing nothing but sitting on his horse and just laughing about how they seemed to have an advantage by trapping the Black Brigade. With a sneer, Albel jumped down and ran inside, taking the elevator to the second floor. The first floor stop had yet to be constructed, and as Albel exited the elevator, he smirked as he came face to face with a group of soldiers. "You're Albel Nox, aren't you?" One brave man touted, grinning quite gleefully while swinging his mace in a neat circle. "And what if I am…" Albel hissed, his claws gently clacking against one another. "Then the price on your head is MINE!" He roared, and Albel charged as the man swung the mace as hard as he could, trying to aim and land it right on Albel's head, but the much faster man just side-stepped and thrust his katana forward, first stabbing the man in the throat clear-through before a flick of his wrist severed the head and the soldiers stared in disbelief as the head plopped to the ground, blood gushing from the stump of the throat before they came to their senses and charged to encircle the soldier. With a snarl, Albel turned and impaled another man on his sword, twisting and cutting cleanly through another man; both cleaved in two. Albel's claws gleamed, lashing out as well, the aura emanating from Albel as a dark crimson as his blood lust raged and with little effort, the entire team was slaughtered and Albel took off running to get to the stairs. The moment he came upon the stairs, Albel lunged off and raised his katana high over his head, his face twisted into a maniacal expression; eyes wide and a wicked grin pulling the corners of his mouth nearly ear-to-ear. The sword came down upon a hapless soldier who was merely guarding the stairs for any Black Brigade soldiers, and Albel continued on sprinting past the body, even before gravity took both halves to the ground. Albel was going straight for that leader… he didn't care who was in his way, let it be Aquarian men, women, children, or even his own men! No one was going to stop him! As Albel threw open the entrance doors to the Kirlsa facility, ignoring the bodies on the ground that belong to Aquarian soldiers, and his own, and the fact that he himself was covered in blood, he just chuckled as his tongue slid along his upper lip to clean off some of the crimson.

As the Aquarian commander noticed the lone Albel in the doors, he just smirked as a line of his soldiers just moved to stand guard in front of him. "Albel Nox… is it?" He asked, watching as Albel began to walk towards them, the ruby eyes locked only upon the commander, like a starving dog to a hunk of meat. "Albel… the Wicked." The man hissed, smirking as blood dripped from his katana and his claws, and he licked a bit of spray from his face again. "I won't kill you… I'll just give you hell." He snickered, but within an instant, Albel lunged and one of the sword men charged, the sword raised high before they suddenly changed their mind before Albel could react. The soldier slammed his shoulder hard into Albel, knocking him to the ground before the other men hurried to try and grab the Glyphian warrior. Albel though, was not about to be taken alive and would fight to his very last breath. Like a beast, Albel roared and his claws lashed out, grabbing a man by the arm, digging in and yanking hard enough to tear the limb off. The man screamed in agony, but Albel just ignored it and continue, twisting around to get up on his feet before he had his sword at hand again and with ease, dispatched the soldiers, leaving them as nothing more than carcasses for the vultures.

"Don't fight the monsters…. Lest you become a monster yourself." Albel hissed, chuckling before he suddenly slashed his katana at the man from his distance, the pure aura of blood lust manifesting itself as a solid blade that shot across the land before the horse could even react. It let out a blood-curdling scream as the blade cut through one of the legs, immediately causing the beast to collapse before Albel walked up to the fallen commander, his leg caught and snapped under the fallen and writhing beast.

As Albel stood over the man, he reached down and yanked the man's sword away from him to keep him from fighting. "I said I wouldn't kill you… I don't kill weaklings." He hissed, his eyes narrowing in delight as he hovered over the commander and reached out, grabbing him by the throat and yanking him free from the beast before Albel just cut the horse's throat just to shut up it's horrified squealing. The commander was whimpering, staring at Albel in horror. "What the hell… are you?"

Albel's expression calmed only slightly, his eyes somewhat glazed over as he seemed to have little interest in this man, showing nothing but contempt. "I told you… my name is Albel the Wicked." He murmured, and his claws began to dig at the commander's belly, piercing the flesh and the fat as Albel dug before the intestines began to fall out of the wound and the commander was howling in agony and terror. "Tell me everything you know…" He whispered, chuckling softly as he leaned in close to the man's lips to hear what he had to say. "Tell me quickly… and the sooner you do… the sooner I end your suffering."


End file.
